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thepenultimateword · 1 year

Note

Hello! I would like to request something!

Supervillain/villain x thief. Just something I've been enjoying lately. Nothing specific i would like you to write with it though, feel free to write whatever you want (if you want to write it ofc, don't feel forced to write anything if you don't want to!)

Have a nice day!

CW: blood, a couple dead animals (not explicitly described)

Most people didn't come this far up the mountain. They had the good sense to heed the laws and leave the restricted area at the top alone. And if they didn't care for laws, like the thief didn't, they at least had the preservation skills to avoid the city's most legendary monster.

Yes, the thief was probably being stupid, but they'd been doing stupid things for so long, their preservation instincts had been filed down smooth and harmless. Not great at avoiding trouble and not great at getting out of it either, a double whammy for someone in their line of work. But even if they never knew when to stop or when to run, at least they were pretty good at getting a job done.

The thick wall of thorns and brambles appeared out of the mist in front of them. That meant the prison was just on the other side.

They unshouldered one strap of their pack, flipped it around, and relooped it so the bag lay against their chest. Then they dropped to their belly and began wriggling through the well-worn gap beneath the underbrush. Their pack scraped the earth, staining the orange canvas a ashen brown and slowing them to a crawl, but at least they avoided getting tangled in the branches overhead. The old scars littering their arms spoke of days when the path had not been so deep, flat earth instead of a deep furrow, but today, the blood-thirsty prickles did not even steal a drop.

When they scrambled out the other side the bars were right there, thick, cold iron built straight into the mountainside.

The thief knelt on the ground and peered squinting into the thick darkness. "Hello?" Without waiting for an answer, they dropped their pack to the earth with a poof of barren dust and began unpacking the contents into a small pile in front of them. "Anyone awake in there?"

Long, pale fingers slowly emerged from the shadows and wrapped around the cruel iron. Moments later, a matching long, pale face joined them.

"Hello, little raven. Miss me so soon?”

The supervillain’s eyes sunk dark and sharp in their sockets, like a couple pieces of whetted obsidian, only made darker from thick shadows gathered beneath. It had only been a couple weeks since their last visit, but the thief couldn’t tear their eyes away from the drastic change in weight and energy.

“Are you sick?” Somehow the thief’s fingers had found their way to the supervillain’s, and now they rested gently overtop their knuckles on the bars. There was that reckless stupidity again. They shouldn’t touch a person who could suck the soul from any living thing on contact, but…they did have that power suppressor firmly locked around their throat, and the supervillain’a skin was so cold it might as well be ice itself… It should be fine.

“Just a little under the weather,” the Supervillain said, allowing the thief’s hands to warm them. “It will pass.”

“Can’t you tell someone?”

The supervillain chucked emptily. “Who? There are no guards. No caretakers. No cooks. I am alone here.”

“But…the heroes can’t just abandon their prisoners.”

Supervillain shrugged, slumping against their bars a little. “They built me a pit, threw me in, and never looked back.”

“How do you live?”

All this time they had assumed that the villain was being taken care of. Maybe not living a life of luxury,—this was a prison—but at least with a couple square meals a day and pair of steady eyes on them in case anything happened. That was always how the media made it sound when they mentioned the supervillain’s confinement. A state of the art, highly guarded penitentiary, that would keep supervillain out of trouble for the rest of their life.

The thief cringed inwardly. They could have been bringing more useful things. Meals, medicine, water.

“The things you bring are more than enough, little raven,” Supervillain said as if reading their mind. “I have a surplus of souls to sustain me. I won’t require physical food to keep my alive for at least a decade.”

And yet they were sick.

“I can go back down and find better things.”

The supervillain shook their head, hands rotating flat so that they no longer gripped the iron and only the thief's slender hands. “I already told you I’m fine. Show me what you brought.”

The thief hesitated but nodded, plucking up a jewel-encrusted hairpin from the pile. "I have this pure gold pin embedded with emeralds, then I got this--"

"Not like that. Tell it like a story." The supervillain settled down on their side, head rested on one outstretched arm while their eyes continued to watch the thief's movements. The thief could almost imagine they weren't sitting on two opposite sides of a prison wall, one of them practically immortal and the reaper of hundreds of human souls. Maybe they could just be two people, sort of fond of each other, out camping and telling tales.

"Alright," the thief said. "So there I was, standing in the middle of the auction house with 2 hours of sleep and a secondhand outfit covered in sequins, looking good, feeling cute. That is until Miss 'Catherine Troughy' comes up and starts having an absolute fit that my clothes are too distracting, and that they clash with her dress and its tacky silver rhinestones. I'm just trying to get into the back and do my thing, but she just won't let it alone. Soon security is coming over, the host is coming over, and my invitation is being scrutinized--seriously, under a magnifying glass, and..."

They trailed a little as the supervillain's mouth tugged into a small smile, but before the pause could grow large enough to become noticeable, they leaped back into descriptions of their invitation, the tension of waiting if it would be revealed a fake, the relief at it being passed, the way they avoided this annoying woman the entire night and eventually shoved her off the stage when she caught them stealing the pin, an ancient artifact from a past king.

They reached past the bars and tucked it into the supervillain's long, untidy hair before launching into a new story about the mayor's unlocked backdoor and now missing feather pillow—it should be much more comfortable than whatever the supervillain was using now.

Not all of the stories were very exciting, but the supervillain shared just as much interest in big heists as they did in shoplifting. They asked for details about mundane things like train rides and weather and didn't seem to mind whether something ended smoothly or in chaos.

The thief liked sharing these experiences fully with someone else, almost as if they had a friend along with them the whole time, but they liked sharing the spoils even more: a diamond ring, a silk shawl, a new pair of clothes, a box of fancy, velvet cream chocolates, a tin of mints, a crochet hook and a ball of yarn, and a romance novel that supervillain allowed them to read out loud. However, by the end of chapter one, the supervillain's eyes were drooped closed, and their shoulders trembled with chills.

"I'm going to make you some soup," the thief said determinedly, clambering to their feet and brusquely wiping the knees of their pants. "I'll be back in a couple hours."

The supervillain's eyes flickered open. "You know if you really want to help. I know the ingredients for a revitalizing potion, perhaps you could gather the ingredients and brew it for me?"

"But...I don't have powers."

"Don't need them." The supervillain's eyes drooped back down, but they continued talking. "A potion makes its own magic based on its recipe. The right blend makes the right result. But if you're uncomfortable, soup would be just as well."

The thief didn't know about that. Soup did not seem like anything compared to a magical revitalizing potion. And with the supervillain suffering so much...

"What do you need?"

One eye winked back open. "It's quite a long recipe."

"I have time!"

"And some of the ingredients are somewhat...unusual."

"I have a good eye for unusual."

The supervillain paused but then nodded. "Alright, it goes like this. Three sprigs of lavender, two sprigs of thyme, three withered mints leaves, the wings of a lunar moth that have never yet flown, a thorn stained with i's first blood, the claw of a predator, the tooth of it's prey, and a few beams of moonlight shining over the surface while it boils. It must be served scalding."

That was... interesting. But certainly not impossible.

"And you'll feel better once you have it?" the thief said.

"Yes," the supervillain confirmed. "I'll be...just like new."

***

It took the greater part of the night to find everything on the supervillain's list, and much of it wasn't very pleasant. Luckily, a walk down the side of the highway found them the claw of a predator they didn't have to grapple with--a poor coyote that had ended up on the wrong side of a car--but they were not quite so lucky when it came to prey. They were just glad they had gloves with them because they would have suffered a lot more serious bites getting that squirrel's tooth if they went barehanded. They felt a little awful scaring the little guy, but all they had to do was think of the supervillain shivering in their prison and they were consoled.

The lunar moth took hours, mostly because they had to find a barely hatching cocoon, not an already flying insect. Luckily, that they were in the right season for that sort of thing.

By the time they had everything they needed, the moon was high in the sky, and the thief had to walk very slowly to get up the mountain slope without misstepping and taking a deadly tumble down. As they passed through the bramble and thorn thickets, they chose one thorn from the very center, most unlikely to have pricked something before, and cut it with the blade of their pocket knife. Then they sunk it into the pad of their finger. They bit their lip not to cry out and then a second time when they pulled it out again. Despite the blanket of darkness draped overhead and tucked in on all sides, they barely picked out the bloodstain from the night.

"I'm back," the thief called to the vacant opening, sucking their sore finger as they laid out the ingredients and started setting up a spot for a fire.

"That wasn't so long."

The supervillain suddenly appearing out of the dark, leaning their shoulder against the bars.

“Ha!” Thief scoffed. “I’ve given up completely on heists that took shorter. You’re lucky we’re…er…friends.”

They wished that last part didn’t sound so much like a question, but at the same time they didn’t want to say it confidently either in the eventuality that wasn’t the case.

“Ah, perhaps I should say, it didn’t take so long as I’m used to.”

“Did you use this potion often?”

“Mmm, no. Only once. But I’ve met people who have.”

“You must have a really strong immune system then. If I had a sickness curing potion, I think I’d use it all the time, even if it does have like…teeth and blood and things in it… Are you sure this is safe?”

“Absolutely.” Their voice dragged a little now, almost like supervillain had to force each letter to make a sound.

The thief threw several leaves onto the baby flame and whipped out their thermos from their pack to begin adding each ingredient to what was left of their water.

A few minutes and a few moonbeams later, and the water had become a bubbling, silver goop giving off its own lunar light.

“It’s done,” the supervillain said, some of their energy returning to them as they reached through the bars. “Give it to me.”

“Are you sure it’s not going to burn y—“

“Give it to me!”

The thief leaped a little in their seat. The supervillain had never risen their voice at them before. Not even when they first met, and they wanted nothing to do with a powerless thing like them.

The thief held out the thermos numbly, only managing a whispered and shaky, “be careful,” before the supervillain took the hot metal in their bare hands and down the simmering ooze in two rapid gulps.

They shrieked, violently throwing the thermos away from themself and denting it on the cavern wall with a sharp, resounding clang.

“Supervillain?” the thief cried, gripping the bars.

The criminal clutched at their chest, clawing at their clothes and skin as if they wanted rip both completely off.

“Did I mess up? How do I fix it? Supervillain talk to me!”

The supervillain dropped to their knees, catching themselves on their hands and leaning their forehead against the cold ground. Sharp growls quickly faded into soft whimpers and then nothing at all.

The thief strained through one of the gaps in the bars, hesitating only a moment before they gently pushed the supervillain’s curtain of hair from their face.

The supervillain’s obsidian eyes went pale.

The thief lurched back, scrambling back on their hands several feet away and staring dumb as the supervillain careened to their feet and stretched out their hands.

Their eyes flashed, actually gave off real light, and the bars disintegrated into white ash. Their power suppressor seemed to decide to follow the bars in their fate, because half a second later, pale flakes were fluttering to the supervillain’s shawled shoulders.

The supervillain stepped past the threshold and took a long deep breath. “Ahh. I swear freedom has a smell.”

They’re eyes flicked to the thief. They grinned, stepping forward.

“I…I…” the thief retreated against the brambles, the barbs tangling in their hair and stabbing bloody pinpricks across the backs of their hands. “Please.”

They didn’t even know what they were saying. They just didn’t…they didn’t want want to die. Was Supervillain going to kill them?

The monster stood directly over them now, those awful eyes, ghostly, cold, and otherworldly, seeming to pierce straight though their soul and into their innermost thoughts. In one fell swoop, their long arms wrapped around them and scooped them up against their chest. A few locks of hair stayed behind with the brambles, but the supervillain didn’t seem to notice their yelp.

“Come, my raven.” They stroked the thief’s cheek with the crook of their finger. “We have a city to greet.”

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer r @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie

I didn’t edit this at all, so I’m sorry if it’s a mess, I will go back later, I’m just ready smash that post button now

#villain x villain #villain x thief #supervillain x thief #supervillain x villain #hero x villain #creative writing #heroes and villains #heroes and villains community #writing snippet #villain #fiction #writblr #fantasy #monster villain #sorcerer villain #magic #hero x villain community

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inbabylontheywept · 11 months

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Healing+Lightning=

Wizard Launcher

Avalahn was already halfway through the anti-lightning sigil when he realized that the hedge wizard's spell was continuing. Surprising. Dual element spells were rare enough amongst polished circle elves. For a backwood self-taught like the human in front of him, they were signs of a prodigy.

Still, it was hardly worth worrying about for someone with his centuries of experience. He simply relooped his hand instead of closing his fist, preparing himself to charge his sigil with a second element in turn.

Or, so he thought. His almost bored counterspelling was replaced by consternation.

The first spell he’d identified clearly enough. Aerothurgy of the third ring, a lightning blast designed to cripple warriors by overdrawing their muscles. Atypical for wizard duels, but perhaps the hedge wizard was trying to avoid lethal options. He would be disappointed if he expected the same courtesy from Avalahn himself.

But the second spell, he’d never seen used in a duel before. It was a biomancy spell, but far more intricate than the lightning spell. At least sixth ring. He’d seen something like it used to reattach severed tendons.

Why would he try to heal me, right after harming me?

The hedge wizard maintained focus as he traced the last symbols through the air, completing the cast. Avalahn closed his fist and finished his sigil, protected from the lightning part of the attack. If there was a look of trepidation on the hedge wizard’s face as he finished, Avalahn assumed it was fear from fighting a superior mage.

He assumed wrong.

There was a sound like the rigging of a ship tearing loose, like a mighty cord breaking under unimaginable strain. The hedge wizard howled in pain, but more important than that, he flew. Avalahn had no time to cast a physical barrier. He’d been prepared for lightning and thunder, not for the filthy half-feral man to cross the thirty foot gap between them in half a second. His brain was still trying to process how healing plus lightning resulted in a wizard launcher.

The wizard slammed into him at waist level, a dagger sharp shoulder aimed perfectly at his diaphragm. The sound he made as every fragment of air left his body was similar to the noise a rat would make while getting run over by an oxcart.

The two bounded down the road, a knot of limbs and robes. Avalahn may have been caught unprepared for the dive tackle, but he wasn't completely useless in a scrap. His reflexes were still top notch, and even when he couldn’t tell up from down, he could still cast a ward against blows.

The hedge wizard was definitely slower and smaller than Avalahn himself was, but if nothing else he was in his element. Avalahn managed to throw a few sharp elbows into his ribs, but when the scramble stopped the human was the one on top.

The sigil was not focused enough to full stop the first blow, but it softened it. His head still bounced back against the grass, but it was hardly the crushing blow that the hermit had clearly hoped for. The second blow was also warded, but still went hard enough to draw a trickle of blood from one nostril. He tracked the recoiled fist of the human wizard and was surprised to see a large rock clutched in its palm. He must’ve snatched it off the path some point during the tumble.

Clever little bastard.

He did have an ace of his own, a little trick built into every ward he cast. Wrapped in all of his defensive casts he always threw in an energy trap, a way to turn the enemy's strength against them.

Between the tumbling and the punches, the physical ward was practically shimmering with built up charge.

He released it with a snarl. The hedge had no time to react, one second he was trying to pummel Avalahn to death with a rock, the next he was physically thrown ten feet back. If he’d landed on his back, Avalahn would’ve had enough time to finish him off with an ice spear, but the stupid, grimy, wicked little beast landed on both feet and charged foward like a bull.

Centuries of knowledge, analyzed in fractions of a second. Spells, wards, sigils, none could be cast before the human crossed the gap.

Only one choice.

He swung a haymaker at the humans jaw. His mind worked faster than his arm could alter course and he watched in slow motion horror as the human twisted his head and ducked, taking the blow on the forehead instead of the chin.

Avalahn’s punch had more power than sense behind it, and decades of sedentary life had made him soft. He barely had time to wince at the boxer's fracture he gave himself before he felt the little man’s arms wrap around him, surprisingly from behind. He must’ve managed to slide under his leg.

As he reached down to break the vice grip that the human had, he realized that the humans fingers were twitching the same lightning spell that they had before. He’d been too busy fighting for his life to process what the hell that opening move was, but in that split second, he realized what was about to happen.

The human didn’t use lightning spells to attack directly. He used them on himself, as a way to overload his muscles and gain a temporary and painful burst of superstrength.

The healing was just used to fix whatever horrible damage he did to his own muscles in that moment.

The twitching stopped and he knew that the convocation was complete. He could only sit in silent horror as he felt every muscle in the humans body bunch together in one powerful pulse.

The arms around his waist crushed together like a vice, harm enough to snap at least two of his lower ribs. He felt his feet lift off the ground as the muscles in the humans back pulled taut, saw the ground rush up to meet him as he was flung carelessly over the human’s shoulder.

It wasn’t a clean knockout. It was a filthy, vicious, visceral knockout, and in the human’s eyes, that was far better.

The hedge wizard spent a few seconds on the ground, quietly contemplating his choice to pull every muscle from his hamstrings to his shoulders. He didn’t have enough mana to fix himself right as rain, but he could work up enough to at least get himself onto his feet again. He took a moment to drag the unconscious elf into the shade under a tree before rummaging around the finely tooled leather bag the traveler had brought. There was a bag of candied nuts that he helped himself to, as well as a small bottle of brandy, but the rest he left be. He liked his creature comforts, but he wasn’t a bandit. He’d just wanted to make a point about what happened to people that tried to barge through his woods, only to threaten violence when told to leave. He couldn’t tolerate bullies, but he especially couldn’t tolerate bullies blessed with magic.

Still, he felt a little bad for his petty theft, and slightly impressed with the physicality of the fight. He hemmed and hawed for a few seconds before fishing through the pack again, this time pulling out a quill and some parchment. Using one of the hardbacks in the bag as a desk, he wrote a small note to leave on the unconscious elf's lap.

Nyce heighmayker. You can travil thru, provyded you bary your shits. When you retern to your Very Fancy Sercil, try to reed a book on how NOT to get suplecksed. Haha!

Syned,

Tom Bug

Ps. Your desent enuf for a book wizard. I gess you can stop by agen, if you behayv. Bet your frends are pricks tho. Tell them to stay away or I will kill them with a rok.

#hfy #humanity fuck yeah #muscle mage #i cast fist #Tom Bug #get rekt #I sing the body electric #writing #creative writing #fantasy #mage duel #enemies to lovers #jk #UNLESS #no really jk #bary your shits

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larbeech · 5 months

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#INAKI || I've so much fun reloop this for 3 times

#inaki godoy #iñaki godoy #monkey d. luffy #luffy #luffy live action #opla #one piece live action #one piece

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shiny-airplane · 2 years

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Posting a Yui sticker I made because I lost the one from my ft4 album (｡>ᯅ<｡)

#honeyworks #ft4 #I was having such a good day relooping shin jidai at a cafe and then this happens...#at least I have this! I'm planning on making more stickers too!(^O^)/#also shin jidai is so good!!! Everyone sang so well!!!⸜(*ˊᵕˋ*)⸝‬#I have a playlist that is just shin jidai and moonlight (from vbs) because I have both of them really stuck in my head (*_ _)⁾⁾⁾#red’s art tag

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imagineitdearies-old · 1 year

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Would you consider writing a modern au after d&s? Maybe with switch Lucemond 👀 lol or do you have other things lined up

'Things lined up' is waaaay too organized for me, anon 😂

Do I have a doc just filled with HOTD plot bunnies, though?? Yes, yes I do. Weirdly the only modern au on there right now is a rhaenicent religious trauma/'summer before college' slowburn, but I'm happy to get inspired at any point toward a modern lucemond story, just haven't yet. (prompts welcome!)

Switch lucemond though?? Anything that's not a one-shot would involve switching at some point, ngl. And though I've loved being stuck in Aemond's unreliable narrator head for D&S, I think I'd want to switch POVs in most of them too, lol. So yeah, here's a couple of my current long-form lucemond plot bunnies:

Luke gets poisoned: a bit of a whump!Luke fic at the start. Rhaenyra stays in KL and is Regent. When Corlys recovers from the wounds they thought might kill him, she holds a feast to celebrate. At the feast, Luke gets weirdly sick really fast, thinks it was the seafood he ate, and tries to go to his chambers but collapses in some small corner of the castle in pain. Enter Aemond, who followed thinking Luke was crazy drunk and that this is a perfect opportunity to remove his eye--right up until he realizes Luke is coughing up blood. Suddenly he is Not CoolTM with someone else hurting his nephew (he's the only one allowed), and gets him to a maester fast. He stays at Luke's bedside the whole time he's nearly dying, no one can make him leave, does a lot of the caring/nursing him back to health stuff. And then, after the two talk it out of course, they embark on a vengeful murder-spree together killing everyone who was involved in poisoning Luke. It gets a bit kinky.

Storm’s End Time Loop: When Lucerys dies, he’s brought back with a clang of a knife falling between him and Aemond, back to that moment he demanded his eye. Thinking the gods gave him a do-over, this time Luke does not wait for his uncle’s words, just runs. He and Arrax hide amidst the rock pillars until the storm passes, safely making it home…but the moment he falls asleep, Lucerys returns to that moment at Storm’s End.

He tries different things as time continues to loop—once convincing Lord Borros to let him stay the night, another throwing the knife at Aemond’s face, even attempting to put his sword through him from the start—but the moment he dies or falls asleep, it starts again. Lucerys begins to wonder if the gods have a sick sense of humor and won’t let him rest until he fulfills Aemond’s request.

So the next time, he does put out his eye...and it still reloops. But this time Aemond remembers too. (Cue the two of them doing the day over again and again till they get it right, aka fall in love lol.)

Diplomatic mission to Essos: Rhaenyra is queen but Corlys did die of his injuries, so Luke became Lord of the Tides quite young. Years later the queen asks him to go on his first diplomatic mission to Essos. Since he has little experience, however, she sends Aemond to accompany him, as her brother has had great diplomatic success in Dorne for the last few years. Cue the two of them begrudgingly trying to get along in the tight quarters of a ship and work together on their approach with the trade deal (a lot of Aemond impatiently coaching Luke, lol). But they're both mature men--mostly--now, and actually find a lot in common, becoming friends. Eventually they share quarters because Aemond's keeps flooding, UST builds...until Aemond comes onto him one night, justifying that it's a common thing for sailors to do when they go a long time between ports. (Cue family-with-benefits situationship angst)

What will I work on next?? Maybe none of these, who knows 😂 the muse is a fickle thing. After I finish D&S I'll probably want a break with some one-shots, we'll see. Thanks for the ask!

#lucemond #plot bunnies #shit I wrote #ask me shit #fanfic prompt

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